“Con-gratulate you, my dear Vining! do, indeed,” said Hugh Lingon, coming up to Charley in the hunting-field, when he had been home about a fortnight.

“What about?” said Charley, who had attended every meet, and tried his best to break his neck as he rode straight, taking everything that came in his way.

“What about?” said Lingon. “Why, about your coming marriage, to be sure. Haven’t seen you before, or I should have given you a word or two. Rather too bad of Laura Bray, though.”

“What was?” said Charley very impatiently.

“Why, making such a pair of tongs of me, with which to fish for her hot roast chestnut—meaning you, of course, Charley,” said Lingon, with a laugh.

“Don’t be a fool!” said Charley gruffly.

“Not if I can help it,” said Lingon good-humouredly. “But you know how I was made a fool of, and then pitched over at any time, when your sultanship thought proper to be attentive.”

“Long time finding a fox this morning,” said Charley impatiently, as he turned his horse along by the side of a spinney. But Hugh Lingon was not to be shaken off, and trotting up to his side, fat and good-tempered, he talked on.

“I should have expected that you’d have given up all this sort of thing now, old fellow,” said Lingon; “but I suppose you are having your run out before the knot is tied. I say, though, how well Laura looks!”

“Does she?” said Charley absently; and it was very evident from his quiet abstracted manner, that he was thinking upon other matters.

“Does she! Ah, I think so. But mind you, I’ve an idea that Nelly will grow into a handsomer woman altogether. I like Nelly,” he added simply.

“So do I,” said Charley, starting from his reverie. “She’s a lovable girl.”

“I say, young man,” exclaimed Lingon, “that won’t do; you can’t have them both.”

“Pish!” exclaimed Charley, putting the spurs to his mare. “There, I’m going on. Good-morning, Lingon.”

“But I’m going your way, Charley,” cried the other, spurring up alongside. “Don’t be in such a hurry, man! It isn’t often one sees you now. I want to know when it’s to be. Our girls are sure to ask me, for they’re all red-hot about it.”

“When what’s to be?” said Charley, with a wondering gaze.

“O, come, I say, now, that’s a good un!” laughed Hugh Lingon, till his fat face was full of creases and rolls, some of which threatened to close his little twinkling eyes. “Going to be married, and got it all settled, and not know the day! Ha, ha, ha! Charley Vining, that is a good one! I do like that!” And he gave his friend a hearty slap on the back. “Come, I say, tell us, old fellow!”

“This day month, I believe—there!” said Charley viciously; and again he essayed to leave his friend behind.

“By the way, Charley,” said Hugh, continuing alongside, “I want you to do me a favour.”

He spoke............